Atypical
by sitting.waiting.watching
Summary: Chap. 1-3 edited! Part 1 of my Hunger Games series. Anastasia just won the 396th Annual Hunger Games... But what happens now? Why can't she remember things that happened in the Arena, that's not because of the mysterious berries? What happened in the Arena that she just can't face? So many questions... Rated T because it's the Hunger Games, violence and blood, emotional trauma
1. The End Of the Beginning

**A~N **

**I've re-edited this chapter… just a few things, I would recommend reading it again if you haven't already :)**

I crouch on the edge of the grass. I can see the table set out, right in front of the Cornucopia. My breathing is shallow as I squint to see the objects on the table and pray that there is something good there.

The announcement was quite vague, just that there was going to be a feast at high noon and there was going to be something of vital importance for us at the Cornucopia.

I thought that was going to be a problem, considering I haven't seen the sun since the Games started. The sky has been covered in clouds, occasionally dumping water and a sticky red substance too much like blood.

It flooded some of the lower portions of the Arena, forming a ring of mud, debris, water and blood that was stagnant. The memory of it still makes me gag the smell was so horrid.

The clouds went away right after the announcement, fortunately but I struggled to see anything for about an hour after being used to the dark for so long.

I see faint smoke coming from a bowl on the table. No, I realize its steam. Good. I sprint up the hill, knife clutched firmly in my hand. When the table is only a few yards away from me, I slip on the muddy ground and flop on my stomach. I jump up and run the last yards to the table.

Spinning around to guard the food I see the grass rustling to my left. Baring my teeth and holding my knife at the ready, I think how I might be able to get rid of a few more tributes. Or get myself killed by the massive tribute from Seven.

A shape leaps from the rustling spot. I see it's a wolf mutt but I stand my ground. It leaps at me. I duck and sink the knife into its ribcage. It's still thrashing when it hits the ground but I know that it won't be getting back up.

Sticky blood coats my knife and hand. I wipe the knife off on my pants. Slowing my breathing I hear heavy footfalls and labored breathing. Someone is running up the hill to the Cornucopia. I grab another knife out of my belt and hold it ready to throw. I look to the right and left. Nothing. I back away from the table to the start of the slope of the hill. The pair from 10 charges at me from the back of the Cornucopia, one on each side.

There is a thump as the boy hits the ground, then a clang as the girl hits the Cornucopia. Two cannons sound. Two more kills for me.

I pull another knife out of my belt, spinning around. There's nobody approaching the Cornucopia and there's no movement in the grass. I stand rigid, listening and looking around for a couple more minutes.

Then, as I'm about to take the food and run, I hear howling and screams, both male and female. It dawns on me; the Gamemakers want this done now. Why else would they release the mutts that are probably herding the few that remain towards the Cornucopia? It's been at least three weeks as far as I can tell although it's probably more.

Sometime about two weeks in I ate some berries that I was sure weren't poisonous but knocked me out cold. For how long I couldn't tell, but I was grateful that I wasn't stumbled upon by another tribute. Games usually last about two weeks so this is getting pretty long. We're probably boring the Capitolites. Poor babies.

There were five tributes left before the feast but someone could have died while I was out. Since I killed the two from 10 there is at least three of us left. That includes the boy from Seven who I wounded but would like to have been able to kill.

I found him sleeping during one of the blood-rain showers and should have been able to kill him but a cannon sounded and he woke up. I was out in the open standing right next to him and he started throwing punches that were surprisingly quick and not so surprisingly very powerful. I sustained a punch to the jaw but I got a knife in his shoulder and an elbow to his head before I ran. I decided I needed an advantage because he was large and strong. I'm better at throwing knives than hand to hand. I am from Two however, and no doubt better than the upper district kids in pretty much anything fighting.

Two people came bursting through the grass- interrupting my thinking- and the mutts came shortly after. The boy from Seven was far ahead of the two mutts after him, but the other girl wasn't so lucky. The mutt leaped as she started climbing the hill and the cannon sounded shortly after.

I had two knives left, two chances to end this. It would be a fluke if I won in hand to hand to Seven. In the state I was in I could probably take two blows.

He was coming up the hill now getting closer. I ran to the left side of the Cornucopia so I could have more room to throw once he came up to the top. Aiming carefully but quickly I let my first knife fly. It bounced right off of his chest. Armor. This was about to get a lot harder. I formed a new plan. Ingenious. Clutching the knife in my teeth I climbed up the Cornucopia. I squatted once on top and saw Seven coming around the left side. He had to have seen me and wonder where I went.

"UP HERE!" I yelled.

Seven looked up and sneered. He started the climb up the side. Ha, he fell for it. I jogged over to right above where his head would be in about three seconds, if the mutts didn't tear him down first. Clutching the knife I kneeled.

It took forever but his head was level with the Cornucopia and I grabbed his hair, jerked his head up and to the side and stabbed the knife into his temple.

Boom went the cannon. I pulled my knife out and stood up panting, although I hadn't exerted myself that much. I hoped with my whole being that was the last tribute left, besides me of course.

"Congratulations to the victor of the 396nd Annual Hunger Games, Anastasia Rothfeild!"

Throwing my fist with the knife in the air, my face forms a smile and I laugh, somewhat insane. It's over!

It's over.

It is then I realize how tired, dirty and wounded I am. I haven't slept in… five days maybe, constantly hunting and killing only taking brakes to eat, drink and take a caffeine pill, not closing my eyes for fear I would fall asleep. That would mean the terrible night terrors that left me shaking and sobbing. About a week ago was the first one and after the second, I gave up and started on the energy pills.

My clothes stick to me with blood and water. I don't think I've been dry these whole Games because of the impeccably timed blood rain. Once you think you're dry, it starts raining again. Oddly there was no rain gear in the Cornucopia.

My long pants and shirt didn't help much then or against the abnormally large thorn bushes I stumbled into after getting attacked by a swarm of giant bugs that stings hurt like nobody's business and made the world spin around me.

How I killed the bugs with my knives while the world shifted and tumbled around me I don't know.

So I'm covered in blood, gashes, bug bites and my face is swollen. I feel my hair sticking to my face from the heat, humidity and grease. Some of it is still caught up in the bun I tried to pull my hair up into after the stings a few days ago.

I want to go home.

Actually I just want to go somewhere other than here.

What happens when I go home?

A~N

Hope that cleared some mistakes out! If you find any, feel free to tell me about them :) Don't worry, I also take criticism very well.

Whew! That was kinda nervous making posting my first story on here! I have written a lot more but it needs a whole lot more work. I want to know what you think so REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! You have no idea how much that would mean to me. Seriously. I will scream a little whenever I get a review and go into a mad fit finding out what it says. And I love constructive criticism so bring it on! I can only get better, right? ... Right?


	2. This Is Just How Life Is

**A~N**

**Edited this chapter :)**

**A song I was listening to while writing this chapter was Missing by Flyleaf. Look it up!**

**I'm actually planning on doing sort of a series type of thing with this story and a few others I have started typing up. The full explanation is on my profile!**

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I can't remember how many times I wake up screaming.

I scream for a few minutes then I pass out. Eventually, it stops which I find odd but I'm thankful for it.

When I finally wake up feeling mostly normal, I find a tray of food over my lap holding a small portion of oatmeal and applesauce. I eat slowly and look around where I am.

After the hover craft came and got me from the Arena, they took me to the hospital under the Training Center. They hooked me up to some IV's and that's the last thing I remember.

I look at my arms. The IV trails into one and wires into another. The lights aren't too bright or dim and everything is white. Well except for me.

My skin is perfect. My nails are neatly trimmed and my hair is soft and a lot longer than I remember it being.

But I can count my ribs and my legs and arms are like sticks. My fingers look so bony it's slightly creepy. Surprisingly, I feel good- ready to get out of here. After I finish eating I pass out again.

The next time I wake up I feel sore and tired. There is a tray of food on my lap as before. I reach for the spoon but I notice something is very wrong.

My hips are filled out and my chest is a lot larger. My arms are not sticks and my legs are really… filled in.

I never really was shaped like that before and I was ok with it. But now the Capitol has decided otherwise. I frown. Why did they do this? This could only be for their gain. What do they want from me?

I eat and pass out again. By now I know it's the IV that's doing it to me.

Now when I wake up, I feel good. Like before the surgery. I see the IV and wires are gone. There is an opening in the wall; I figure it's time for me to leave here.

I would rather stay.

I put on the clothes that were on the foot of my bed- which revolt me a little at first- because they are the same kind that I wore into the Arena.

The Arena.

_The gong sounds, long and loud. I have already spotted the belt with the knives and start sprinting up the hill towards it. I know the two tributes on either side of me have run into the grass already. I look for other potential threats, but no one is as far as I am to the Cornucopia. Quickly grabbing the belt and snapping it on, I start flinging knives. I know enough not to hit any of my fellow Careers unless I want a brutal death._

* * *

I think one of the reasons I like knives is they're quick. I don't think I am an insane murderer, I don't enjoy killing in the slightest; this is just how life is. My parents put me in the training program back in Two, which costs a lot of money unless you can prove you really stand a chance in the program.

I didn't really have a chance at first or a choice at all.

I tried telling my parents that I didn't want to do it. I tried calming explaining my reasons. I tried yelling and screaming at them that they were terrible people and didn't deserve to have a child. They just told me I would understand one day.

I don't and I am not planning on ever 'understanding'.

At the Training Center I refused to acknowledge anybody. Then on the second day the instructors (who are all past victors) strapped me to an upright board and told the class that I would be the target for the day.

I stayed there with assorted weapons flying pass me. I knew and they knew that none them had the guts to hit me.

Did I mention we were 10 years old?

That was a lesson for everybody that day. For the rest of them it was no mercy. I was the example of fearlessness of pain and death that they all should have. I wasn't fearless; I just knew that they weren't going to kill me.

They told all of us that if we didn't feel like being here, they would make sure we were picked the year we were eligible, gain no sponsors and die a brutal death via the other Careers.

That scared me so much I became the hardest working in the group. I had seen a lot of the gruesome deaths and I was scared of pain.

They taught all of us all of the weapons and the fighting styles, but we had to pick which two we wanted to refine into our own. That was when we were 13.

That was when really bad things started to happen.

* * *

I absolutely hated my parents and their cold, plastic faces. Which coupled with the fact that I was now training hardcore with knives was bound to turn out badly. I was training with knife fighting rather than throwing, which I would do later.

The dummies in the Centre bled like humans would when you cut them in various places. My fighting got more and more aggressive. I loved seeing the blood pour out of the dummies, it became an addiction. The other kids were so afraid of me they wouldn't fight me and would avoid me whenever possible.

A new crop of kids were coming in and the instructors decided to scare the crap out of them by having us older kids fight them. Not with weapons, just hand to hand. At the time, I wondered what the point of that was.

Everyone got left alone with their partner in the training area, to intimidate the little kids more, to make them think we were actually going to kill them I figured.

I was paired with a little scrap of a boy who shook like a leaf in the wind even before I was chosen as his partner.

He looked like I could be his big sister. We both had brown hair and brown eyes, same kind of face shape I guess.

When it was our turn we went onto the portion of the area that was covered in mats for wresting and hand to hand. He was still shaking violently but all I could think of was how I could probably make him pee his pants, although I don't think he was that far off.

We stood fairly far away from each other.

"GO!" I yelled.

In two seconds I had him on the ground with my hands around his neck.

He became white as a sheet and started wailing and crying, "Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

It was then something inside me snapped, or rather healed together. Suddenly, I was hugging him then stroking his hair.

"It's ok, it's ok. You're not gonna die. It's ok."

And instead of freaking out more, he relaxed. I let him go and kneeled by him.

"I- I'm sorry. I haven't really been me lately."

"It's ok" he said. He had stopped crying and had turned a more normal color.

"Thanks, kid."

"My name's Irone."

"My name's Anastasia."

I ruffled his hair. "Let's go."

This kid really could be my brother. I felt an odd need to protect him. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel angry.

**A~N **

**Hope the edit helped :)**

**So what do you think? Don't be shy! Drop a review, please! Any comments-questions-anything-at-all-about-the-story is greatly appreciated!**


	3. Remember This

**A~N Important! I've made some edits to this chapter because with the rapid transitions I'm losing people! I hope this clears things up, I forget sometimes that you guys are reading this for the first time and don't occupy my brain…. Or at least I hope you don't!**

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**Oh, there is some mild swearing in this one, just two words but there will be no very bad swearing in any of the chapters, or probably any of my stories. No f-bombs, I promise! It just doesn't fit, I don't think. Plus I don't swear much in real life, why does my writing need it? **

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* * *

During the next two years my mental condition wasn't completely stable, but things got better.

I learned to ignore my parents. Irone and I became like brother and sister. I was still using knives but it was a more calculated and less aggressive style. I started putting on muscle and took mentoring sessions from the past victors.

Life is tough. I get used to it because I have to… There aren't any other options.

Present

I walk down the hallway which is (not) surprisingly white trying to figure out where I am supposed to be going. Eventually I come to another opening and I turn down it. It leads to a room which holds my stylists and mentors.

The remaining group of Victors from our District chooses amongst themselves who is going to be mentoring each year. We all pretty much know each other and always get paired with the ones who we connected most with. For me that was Macall and Juneifer.

I was really surprised that there were others with the 'this is just how life is' policy. They had their issues but sometimes I could pretend that they were just normal people, and we were just having a regular conversation in a regular world.

Sometimes, on the off chance.

We talked a lot about strategy in the Arena in my sessions. How to find shelter, food, tributes, etcetera.

There was not a decision made as to who was going to volunteer for the girls these Games. I was the only girl left in the program that was 18. Our district is smaller than typically thought of and most people were still afraid of me then.

Even after all those years.

* * *

I hug my mentors close my mind buzzing with questions- but they are washed away with a wave of emotion. I owe my life to them and they will know how to coach me through these next TV appearances.

Of which I have no clue how to act in.

I don't want to go through the interviews and the re-watching of the Games. It happened, why can't we just move on? I sigh. Because this is Panem and the Capitol is a bunch of colorful sadistic crazies.

Tatum, my stylist, hugs and congratulates me. I keep having to remind myself that this is real and I'm going to be alive for the foreseeable future, that I'm going to see Irone and Gage.

I get to go back to District Two!

Tears well up in my eyes and I cover my mouth to keep from sobbing. I close my eyes and let the tears spill down.

I don't have to be afraid again. I don't have to take orders from anyone.

"Oh sweetie." Tatum croons and hugs me again.

She is like a mother- a very competitive kick ass mom. Stylists are vicious, always aiming to beat the other stylist in their tributes' popularity and of course style.

Something like the pageant moms I've heard about from before Panem, crazy makeup and everything. Things never change I guess.

* * *

Once in the elevator with Tatum, the doors close and whoosh us up to the second floor. Being trapped in a clear tube moving in an upwards direction reminds me too much of going into the Games. I puke all over the floor once there doors open onto our floor. I was aiming to make it into the bathroom but that bile wanted out then and now apparently.

"Oh sweetie." Tatum croons over and over again as she takes me into the bathroom and cleans me up. She shoos the Avox that came to do that for her away and tells him to go clean up the mess in the hall.

Everything is the same. How is everything the same after what happened?! The bathroom smells like lemon cleaner, just like it did before.

The world swings upwards over my head and there is a mysterious crack then warm wetness under my head. Everything is blurry and sound is distorted, like being underwater.

Before the Games

_The hallway is so large, so long. I wonder if we will make it on time or the Games will start without me. Wouldn't that be something? What would they do, I wonder. I chuckle under my breath but banish the thought from my mind. Those kinds of things don't happen. _

_The two Peacekeepers let me into a small room. Tatum is there and fusses over my dressing into underclothes (how the Capitol knows my size makes me look over my shoulder on occasion), long fitted green pants and a thin long sleeve shirt made out of a material I haven't seen before._

_I am really uncomfortable with my people seeing my naked body but the nervousness I feel about the Games- the possibility of my imminent death- doesn't let me think about anything else._

_I finger the material of the shirt about to ask Tatum what it is but she reads my mind. It's a fabric made for very hot environments, it wicks sweat away from the body and breaths well, but isn't much in the way of protection. This makes me fidget thinking about what the Arena is going to be._

_Thirty seconds 'til launch a female voice says._

_I spin around and look at the tube. It's small and clear. I do not want to go in there. I might never come back out. _

_No. I can do this. I trained for this. I think of Irone and Gage. I picture their laughing faces in my mind. Ok. I'll be ok. I just have to find the knives and then wing it from there._

_Twenty seconds 'til launch._

_My internal fight must be written all over my face because Tatum hugs me. She says she's gotten all of her friends to bet on me since she can't. That makes me smile. I can do this._

_Ten seconds 'til launch._

_I focus on my breathing. Slowly in, slowly out. I find myself in front of the tube. Then into the tube. The door slides closed. Don't panic. _

_Remember this, I think. My cue to think back…_

Saying My Good-byes

"You can do this, Ayna." Gage says. He looks into my eyes searching them for something, I'm not sure what. He squeezes my shoulders. I smile.

"There's my Anya." Gage smiles back. I hug him. This is Gage, this is home, familiar.

Remember this, I think to myself.

He kisses me softly on the lips. We've never kissed before.

I don't want to leave. I don't even _need_ this! I have everything here, without a house in the Victor's Village. I don't care about bringing pride to my District, don't we have enough of that?

The Peacekeepers take Gage out of the room. I reach out for him, but I'm not fast enough.

Doesn't everyone know all of that is just a _lie_?

Gage does, but thought this is what I wanted. Why didn't I tell him? Now it's too late. It's too late to even say good-bye.

* * *

I remember the first time we held hands. We were walking from the Training Center and our hands just found each other.

I blushed so red Gage thought I had stopped breathing. He made something of a little spectacle shaking me and putting his hand on my chest to feel if I was breathing. He actually thought I wasn't.

I laughed and hugged him because that was so Gage and it was so funny. He was quirky funny kid who could hardly lift a spear first day of training but could recite how to kill somebody over one hundred ways. He says he still hasn't got to recite them all yet. After all these years.

Irone looks up to him so much, which on multiple occasions I've said may not be a good thing- followed by a look from Gage and a 'that's mean!' from Irone. Then we laugh, because we know it's ridiculous, me being so mean and Gage being not worthy to look up to.

Before the Games

_I start to rise in my tube, which snaps me out of my remembering. I can do this, I can do this…_

After the Bloodbath

_The remaining tributes have fled from the Cornucopia, most with nothing or very little thanks to our little Career packs' work. The boy from Seven got away with a large duffle pack that was a lot closer to the Cornucopia than I would have liked. How he snuck up so close was beyond me, him being so large and cumbersome. _

_Dead tributes are spread through the open area and we start in the work of taking any of 'our' belongings that they tried to take with them. I think a lot about how I'm going to ditch these guys. _

_Well since I don't want to end up fighting one of them- let alone all of them- I'll be more or less killing them as quick and soundlessly as possible, without the others knowing. That limits my options, just a tad._

_We pile all of the supplies in the Cornucopia, filling small packs with emergency stuff for if something happens. But nothing will happen, we're the Careers._

_The boy from One has volunteered to say back for the night and guard the stuff. He is well trained with a spear, from what I saw earlier so it shouldn't be a problem if somebody comes along._

_That's not us of course._

Present

The last thing I hear before I pass out completely is Tatum yelling at someone.

"You said she was ready! _What the hell?_"

**A~N **

**I think this is much better than the original chapter. I hope you're able to follow! Expecially now that I've make some adjustments. If you still are having trouble, please feel free to tell me what parts and I will try to fix it. I'm just a beginning author (I've been writing for three years) and I need feedback!**

**This was slightly longer than the others, and involves a lot more from Anya's past. Which actually makes this story a lot different from a lot of the other Games fics out there. They usually start with the Reaping and move forward from there. My little story started from the end of the Games and moves forward and backwards. **

**Do you like it? I was aiming to make it more interesting and set it apart. What's a story if it isn't original? **

**Hm, what happens now? Will the Capitol be confused on why Anya was gone for so long? What lies will Panem be fed by the Capitol? Heck I don't even know yet. :) That's the beauty of being a writer. I find the idea and then just wing it from there. (Sound familiar?)**

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